Sodden Sheets
by GoodfortheSoul
Summary: Takes place between "Storyteller" and "Lies..." Season 7. Spike returns home after accompanying Buffy, Andrew, and Wood to the high school. He discovers that Xander and Anya put his bed to  good?  use while he was out, and he is none too pleased.


**Takes place between "Storyteller" and "Lies My Parents Told Me." Season 7. Spike returns home after accompanying Buffy, Andrew, and Wood to the high school. He discovers that Xander and Anya put his bed to (good?) use while he was out, and he is none too happy about it. One-shot. My first fic. Please Review.**

**Usual disclaimer: I do not own anything. **

Sodden Sheets

"Xander!" Spike roared as he charged up the stairs. "Anya!"

He had come from that hellhole of a school and had just wanted to get to bed. He hated that school. He hated those psycho students (couldn't even relish his recently regained love of the kill, because Buffy wouldn't let him finish them). And he really hated that damned principal.

Didn't like the way the school teacher looked at him, questioned him, treated him like he was still one of the bad guys after he had endured so much to be good. And he really didn't like the way the bugger looked at Buffy.

Now, he was just looking forward to a few hours of peace, before all the little girls woke up and started stomping, giggling, annoying. He wasn't sure how much more of Slayer Central he could stand. Too many teenagers and way too much estrogen. At least he had a space where he could get away from them. For the most part, anyway.

As he walked down the stairs of the basement the musky scent of sex assaulted his senses. He was pretty sure he would be able to smell it even if he hadn't been a vampire. Being one just made it worse. Oh bloody hell. His bed didn't look mussed, but he was positive someone had taken a tumble in it. Must have made his bed up again after the shag. Bugger that. In his bloody bed. He took another sniff. Fucking Xander and Anya. Figured, the pouncy whelp never did have an ounce of respect for him. In his bloody bed.

As if he didn't have enough sexual frustration, now he had to be frustrated about them having sex. It was so hard, literally hard, he though wryly, being so close to Buffy. Seeing her, smelling her, loving her, wanting her. After he had seen her in that little lacy top, getting ready for her date with teach, he had gone down to his basement and wanked off for an hour. God, he had tried so hard not look at her tits, the way the fabric had clung to them, but he couldn't help himself. Then he had had to try to have a conversation with her, during which she told him that rubbish about moving on and dating, with a raging hard-on. As if any other girl could make him feel that way. As if any other girl could mean anything to him. He had tried to play it cool, not let on to how hard it was to be around her, how much he wanted her, because he did not want her to send him away. He was afraid that any hint of sex would cause her to shy away from him, conjuring up that night on the bathroom floor, destroying the tenuous trust they had rebuilt. And as much as it pained him to be near her, it would kill him to be sent away. Right now she needed him to be noble, even if she had said otherwise. So he had played along as he tried not to think about his hands and his mouth and his tongue and his teeth on her breasts and as he tried to ignore his erection, hoping she wouldn't notice the obvious bulge in his jeans.

And now sodden Anya and Xander were shagging in his bed. Stupid gits. It was insufferable. He didn't give a damn that they finally fucked. In fact, he was right glad they had, maybe Anya would finally drop his bone now she had a new one to play with. But not in his bloody bed.

He stormed up the stairs. Xander and Anya were in the kitchen with Andrew.

"You fucking wankers," he growled.

"Well good evening to you too, Spike. So glad you joined us. Not." Xander replied sarcastically.

"Yeah, Spike, you really need to brush up on your manners," Anya commented. "That's not really a friendly human greeting. Even I know that. Right, Xander?" She looked to the boy for confirmation.

"Hi Spike!" Andrew squeaked. "Good work at the high school tonight. I'm glad you had my back during the fight. It was like I was Legolas and you were Gimli, friends and brothers in arms, fighting side by side against the evil forces of Mordor. I don't think Buffy could have done it without us. It was really intense," he added for the benefit of Xander and Anya.

Spike ignored Andrew, as he glared at the two sodden love birds, "I need to learn some fucking manners. You bloody shagged all over my bed."

"Yeah. And here is me not caring," Xander replied nonchalantly. Spike wanted to rip his throat out. "We needed a bed. You weren't using yours."

"That's right," added Anya. "Its not like there has been any sex going on in that bed, and we needed it for our sex."

"Wait! You guys had sex." A squeal issued forth from Andrew. "Oh! The romantic reunion. Two hearts come together after pain and betrayal to love again, seeking comfort in each other during their darkest hours. True love conquering all, finding a way to overcome past wrongs. Its so magical!" His hand fluttered up to his heart and he sighed, smiling idiotically.

"It wasn't really magical," Anya responded.

"Hey. I thought it was kinda magical." Xander looked somewhat insulted. Spike smirked at him, raising an eyebrow.

"No. It wasn't magic. It was just sex in the basement. On Spike's bed."

"Right. I've had enough of you. I've bloody had it. If I thought you were worth it, I'd bite you. The lot of you."

"Me too?" followed by another squeal. "That's sweet of you Spike. Shows you care. You only bite the ones you love," Andrew said with a simper.

"No, I bite the ones I hate. Used to be anyone that looks tasty. But now I'll settle for loathing."

"What about me?" asked Anya. "Would you bite me because you hate me or because I'm tasty? Because I think that if I was tasty enough for you to have sex with, that's the biting list I should be on. Its only fair, really. But I just want to know where I stand."

Both men looked at her. Xander hurt. Spike annoyed.

"Missing the point," Spike growled.

"Whoa, back, Bleach Boy. I don't care if you think you're Mr. Big Bad again because you're all dechipped, but you're not. You're not biting anyone, because Buffy wouldn't like it. And you'll do what she wants because she is the only one between you and splinter through your heart. I think everyone would sleep a lot better knowing that you and your trigger were a pile of dust."

"And I'd sleep a lot better if you hadn't used my bed as your bower of two minute bliss."

"More like four, actually," Anya corrected.

"Hey! So not fair. That was the first time. I did better the second time." Xander looked around defensively, "its been a while."

"Couldn't you have at least changed the fucking sheets? Believe it or not, I don't relish the thought of sleeping in sheets sodden by your sex juices."

"Change them yourself. And besides, I think sodden is a bit of an overstatement."

"It did get pretty sticky there for a while, Xander."

"Not helping, Anya."

"Oh bloody hell. The two of you are the two most irritating people I have ever met. Should have just tied the knot when you had the chance so you would have someone to annoy for the rest of your lives. Leave the rest of us out it. You deserve each other that's for bloody sure. You're just so… so… argh." Words failed him.

Buffy walked into the kitchen, freshly showered, smelling delicious, "Hey, everything okay in here? I heard yelling. You'll wake the girls."

"Everything is fine, Buff," Xander quickly answered.

"No it is not fine. It is not bloody fine. These two shagged in my bed."

"Which two?"

"Xander and Anya," offered Andrew, "and Spike is upset about it, because he says that they got their sex juice on his sheets. And apparently it was pretty bad, because his sheets are sodden, which I think is British for wet and icky."

"Ew. Xander that is pretty gross," said Buffy trying not to laugh.

"Holy hyperbole Batman. It was just sex. Its not like we set up a slip and slide on the bed."

"There was enough slipping and sliding without one. If you know what I mean, which is that…"

"Don't need the visual, Anya, already smelled it."

"Still ew!" Buffy looked at Anya, disgusted. Then she turned to Spike, "And… ew!"

"Spikes mostly just upset because you won't have sex with him," interjected Anya.

"Am not."

"So you don't want to have sex with Buffy?" challenged Anya.

"That's not what I said." Spike refused to meet Buffy's gaze.

"Because I offered to have sex with you. Twice actually. And both times you said no. So either you find me hideously unattractive or you only want to have sex with Buffy. Or your happy just masturbating. Some of those sheet stains were not from me and Xander, and unless you completely lost your sex drive when you got a soul, I assume that you have been spending a lot of your time in the basement jerking-off."

"Hey, I'm the wronged party here. My bed was bloody defiled. Don't see why I'm on trial," said Spike, obviously and ineffectively trying to deflect Anya's blunt observations. "Its not my fault those two were going at it like rabbits in my bed."

"William the Bloody, you take that back," Anya hissed, her tone a mixture of horror and rage. "I didn't say or do anything to deserve that kind of insult. I just think maybe you and Buffy should start having sex again, might make you both a little more pleasant to be around, because, lets face it, neither one of you has been a real joy lately."

"Anya, please," said Buffy, raising her hand to her left temple and closing her eyes. She looked worn down, beyond tired. "Nobody is on trial here. Xander, Anya, apologize. Change the sheets so that we can all get to bed. It has been a long night and I have a feeling we have a lot of long nights ahead of us. We are facing some majorly bad evil. I'm in the fight of my life, and I can't be worrying about petty infighting about sex or sodden sheets or whatever. I'm exhausted. We're all exhausted. Lets just drop it."

Andrew was the first to respond, "Good speech, Buffy. I liked it. It was short."

"Well, we won't do it again. I promise," Xander said, looking toward Buffy and ignoring Spike's smirk.

"Yes, Xander has already made it quite clear that he and I will not being having sex again."

"Okay, fine. Lets just all get some sleep. The girls will be up in two or three hours."

Andrew yawned, "Well! I am tired. Nighty night guys. This was fun, lets do it again some time," and he flitted out of the room.

"Xander, Anya. Go."

"Fine. Goodnight, Buffy," Xander said, turning to walk out of the kitchen, scowling at Spike as he exited.

"Yes. Goodnight. This was a good night. Because despite everything that's going terribly wrong around here, at least I had sex." Anya followed Xander out.

"Change Spike's sheet and then to bed," Buffy called after them.

"Not in my bed, though. You've done enough in my bed to last me a bloody lifetime," Spike added. He didn't want to piss off Buffy, but he was not quite ready to drop it. Needed to get the last word. Xander and Anya were lucky Buffy came down when she did. They got off easy.

Buffy looked at him in silence for a minute. Maybe he would bite Anya. Not because he found her tasty, but because he hated her and that big mouth of hers. Couldn't the girl keep it shut for one bloody minute?

"Goodnight, Spike," Buffy said softly, breaking the silence.

"Buffy, about what Anya said. Well, you know how she is. I'm not… I mean I don't… I mean wouldn't… Like I said before, my eyes are open. I love you, you know it. But I'm not fooling myself. Not anymore..."

"Spike. Lets just forget it. You should have nice clean sheets by now. Lets just get some sleep." Her face was so drawn, paler than usual, dark circles under her eyes. In that moment she seemed so small to him.

"Yeah. Right. Sleep. Probably for the best. Needn't mention it again."

"Goodnight, Spike," she said again, and she left the kitchen turning off the lights as she made her way up the stairs.

He stood there for a minute. Finally alone. Finally quiet. "Sweet dreams, Slayer," he whispered into the darkness, before heading back to the basement to get some rest and a little peace.


End file.
